A Whisper of Hope
by SciFiMom2000
Summary: There are whispers of a revolution. There are whispers that he was saved by savages. There were whispers that the person taking out the British was a ghost, with arrows. But what she knew was that he was a whisper of hope.
1. Chapter 1

Epilogue

Her mother fixed her hair for the umpteenth time, muttering, as she rearranged Felicity's traitorous curls, "There are some eligible young men of importance out there, Felicity. Everything must look perfect." Felicity rolled her eyes and grimaced as her hair was tugged again into a low, smooth tail, her scalp burning from each tug, and her mother's insistence that she was going to capture the heart of an eligible young man annoying. The clang of a pot falling stopped Felicity's mother from pulling on her hair anymore, when she went to see what had happened. The steam from all the dishes being prepared in the kitchen instantly caused her curls to go wild again, causing her to sigh and follow her mother.

"Momma, we are serving their dinner and drinks. This is not a place for me to meet someone to court me." Felicity swore the only thing her mother thought about was her being married off. "Who is this party for anyway, and why aren't their servants serving the dinner?" _and keeping me from reading Thomas Paine's Common Sense that I snuck from the one of the drunks at the common house._

Her mother's falsetto brought Felicity back to the her reality, "Because Felicity, their son has just returned after five years and for whatever reason, they didn't want their house servants being used, and lucky for us they came to the common house and asked for some servers, female servers," Felicity felt bile rise in the back of her throat as her mother gave her that bit of information. The only time those of money wanted servants from the common house was because they were expected to "perform" after the party.

Felicity let out a rushed, harsh whisper towards her mother as she was handed a silver tray laden with roasted goose, "Momma, we are not women of ill repute. I can speak and write in seven languages one of those being Algonquian! I can figure out complex arithmetic in my head! I would never be someone's after dinner entertainment! And neither are you!" Felicity used her butt to push open the door as she carried a large silver platter holding a roasted goose, and turned to see the candle lit dining room, with a large table surrounded by the upper echelon of the town.

Letting out a huff and plastering on a demure smile, she turned just as her slipper caught on the rug fringe. She felt her body start to tumble as a small shriek escaped her throat as the roasted goose started to slide off the platter. Just as suddenly she felt two strong, callused hands on her waist, keeping her from falling, unlike the goose that hit the floor with a resounding splat. Turning to see who had kept her from falling in embarrassment, she gazed into two ice blue eyes that were staring into her own.

"Artemis, come boy, you will have goose for dinner!" blue eyes yelled, a bit of amusement flickering over their cold depths. If she had blinked she would have missed it, and suddenly a large black animal came running to the goose and immediately clenched the bird in its jaws and greedily took off with it.

Mortified, Felicity could feel all the eyes in the room on her, judging her, and as she felt the redness of embarrassment creep up her skin, she turned away from those blue eyes and fled through the door she had just exited. She ran straight through the kitchen and out the door into the kitchen garden area. She couldn't show her face in there again. She would be lucky if the Queens didn't take the price of the goose out of her money they were to pay her and her mother for working. She waited to hear the dining room fill with laughter over her klutziness, jokes at her small size, but none came. Taking pot shots at the poor working girl, but it never came. It was eerily quiet except for a low murmur. Curious, she crept along the side of the house and came to the dining room window and looked in.

She saw the man with blue eyes, the ones whose hands seemed to singe her skin, sit at the head of the table, looking out of place and uncomfortable in clothes that appeared too small for his build, not that she had been looking at him or how he filled out his clothes, and out of fashion for the day. Even his hair stood out among those gathered, the gentlemen of the day had long hair pulled back into a queue, tied with silk, but his was shorn very close to his head, reminding her of shorn sheep, and the color of golden wheat, not powdered as was the fashion for formal affairs. Instead of being clean shaven he had stubble over his face, looking like he hadn't shaved in a few days. Just looking at the stubble that adorned his chin and neck made her want to scrape it with her nails. _Where had that thought come from?_ She quickly hid her hands behind her dress, embarrassed by her own wanton thoughts and afraid she would act on them if she could.

Felicity saw Mistress Moira Queen look admonishingly at the man that stood out, "Oliver, I'm so sorry about the goose. I will make sure that girl is punished for her mistake." _There went the monies for tonight._

"Mother, it was an accident and I won't have you keeping money from anyone, besides, Artemis now has a feast as well. It's fine. The goose was as big as she was, that accident was waiting to happen. I don't know why you didn't just have are regular servants tend to the dinner. Leave the girl alone and let us enjoy dinner, " Felicity heard the voice with an authority that meant the issue had been settled. She stared at the man, Oliver, as he stared at his mother with a fixed gaze that was unnerving, even for her standing outside, and as quick as a blink he smiled at her mother as she served him from her platter as if he had not just disrespected her.

Going back to the kitchen garden she sat on one of the small benches and waited. The crisp air chilling her. She couldn't go home by herself without the owner being repulsive and she couldn't go back into the Queen's house, so she just sat in the cold autumn evening, wishing she had her woolen shawl, which was hanging on a hook in the servants' mudroom.

Hearing soft padding from the side of the house, the dog, Artemis, came trotting to her, with half of the goose still clenched in his jaws, an almost smile on his lips. "Well at least you're having a good dinner and evening." Felicity said to the dog. As if he was listening, he sat down on the ground and laid the rest of the goose on the bench beside her, quirking his head to side in an unasked question. Felicity laughed as she responded out loud, "No, I'm good boy. I may be poor, but I won't share a meal with a dog."

She scratched at the underside of the Artemis's head when she heard a response, "I would much rather share a meal with my dog then with most of those people in that dining room." As she looked for the voice, she saw blue eyes, Oliver, round the corner, his mouth in a firm line, but a small bit of amusement in his voice. "In fact, most nights I have sat next to Artemis and we have feasted on whatever fowl or game was cooked, each taking what we needed." She watched as he sat down next to the goose on the bench and stroked the dog's ears. Artemis, clearly happy, placed his head on his master's lap, his tongue lolling out happily.

"M. Mas. Master Queen, I am so sorry about the goose. I tripped and I couldn't keep a hold of the goose and almost fell and then someone grabbed me and of course you know that because you were the person to grab me and your hands felt so good on me and that's not what I meant and I'm going to stop talking right now." Felicity bit her lip to stop her tongue from going much further and to gulp the air her lungs desperately needed. She continued to bite her lip as she looked at the man whose dinner she had ruined.

"Master Queen is my father, I'm just Oliver, and you are?" his eyebrow quirked up as he asked her. His voice warm and friendly, him mouth taking on a hint of a smile.

Sticking her hand out for a handshake, "Felicity, Felicity Smoak. I speak, read and write in six different languages and I can perform complex arithmetic in my head. I can even speak Algonquian!" Felicity bit her lip to stop her blabbering but was she stopped breathing when her hand was grabbed by his large callused hand, something uncommon for a true upper class gentleman, and shook it gently. The heat his hand sent through her was shocking.

"Well, Miss Smoak, who speaks, writes and reads six languages, it's a pleasure to meet you." With that, he lifted her hand to his lips, placing a breath of a kiss on her knuckle. When she picked her head up to speak there was no trace of Oliver, and then a whistle sounded that sent Artemis jumping up and running towards the house, leaving her alone in the garden.


	2. Chapter 2

He couldn't sleep. Everything in his family home was suffocating to him, the clothes, the rooms, the people. As a soft rain fell, he fled out his window and ran to the old barn that sat at the back of the main property, now sitting with his back against the rough barn wood, his skin prickled against the raised grain, but it left him with a peaceful feeling. One that the down mattress could not. For five years, he was used to being outdoors, with shelter being a lean-to, a cave, or nothing at all. He was use to the ground being his mattress or if he was lucky, pine needles or an animal skin. Taking a deep breath of the cool, mist filled air, he felt himself drift off.

The sound of roosters and animals moving roused him from his sleep. He had fallen asleep outside and if he didn't get home, he was sure his mother would send out the militia looking for him, again. Running silently towards his home, Oliver made sure to not be noticed by any workhands or soldiers out and about in the early morning, even though they would not question him even if they did see him. Upon reaching the side of the house, he effortlessly leapt onto the trellis outside his window and climbed into his room on the second floor.

"What the hell are you doing here?" was whispered by his apparently angry sister was not what he expected as he climbed through the window. She was just inside his closed door, in what looked like scullery maid's clothing, her brown eyes boring into him, a frown gracing her face. Artemis just rested at the foot of his bed, looking between Oliver and Thea.

"I could ask you the same thing Thea, since this is _my_ room," he watched as a blush crept up her face and she started to fiddle with the apron of her "uniform." He knew how to get her to answer, so he just leaned against the wall, folding his arms and leveled his eyes at her, like he had all the time in the world for her answer, which he did. And she hated to be stared at, it always made her uncomfortable, even as a small child, and he hoped she hadn't outgrown it.

Thea was trying to look anywhere but at him, so he knew he had her on the ropes. "Well, you have to promise you won't tell Mother." _What was she doing that she didn't want mother to know? She couldn't be meeting a boy, could she? She was his baby sister!_ Her answer brought him out of his thoughts, "I met a boy, really a man, every morning, early. I sneak out of your room, since it has the trellis. I'm back before mother wakes up."

"What about the servants? Why haven't they told Mother?" he watched Thea fidget some more with the apron, looking at an interesting spot on the floor.

"Because they like Roy. He treats them respectfully, and I pay them extra every week, so they keep my secret and I really, really need you to keep it too Ollie." The desperation in her voice made him look even harder at his sister. And he truly saw her as she was, not what he had kept in his memory while he was gone. She wasn't the stick little tomboy that ran around anymore. She had become a woman, one that any man would love to have on his arm. Just from dinner last night he could tell she could keep a conversation going with anyone, was up on current affairs, which he had no clue of, and was a gracious host. So why was she hiding this man from Mother?

"So what is so wrong with this Roy that you sneak out? Is he a criminal? Is he French, what?"

Thea raised her hands in horror, "No, he is learning a trade, he's learning to be a blacksmith, and the only time I can see him is early in the morning when he is stoking the fire for the day and prepping the shop. Please don't tell Mother, Ollie! She thinks lowly of anyone that is in trades. She wants me to marry an English officer!" He gaffed at that. While Thea would make an excellent officer's wife, she was as wild as the frontier, and nothing, not even English propriety would tame that out of her, and he loved her for that. Without another word, he stepped from the window and gave her a sweeping gesture to allow her out, and she left, climbing down the trellis with practiced ease.

Later in the day, when he saw Thea again, primly dressed and entertaining some friends, Oliver saw her give him a conspiratorial smile as he walked past. "Where are you going Ollie? We are having refreshments." Thea asked, already knowing his answer, as several of the young ladies started to fan themselves, not being obvious at all.

"Out. It's a little stifling in here." He made a show of pulling at his collar and caveat as he quickly walked out, giving a whistle for Artemis to follow, aware of all the eyes on him. Walking down the streets he once knew so well, he felt all the eyes on him again. As he passed groups of soldiers, he noticed they would start to talk hurriedly. He had come back from the dead, of course he was something to stare at, and it was too much.

 _I need to get out of here, I need…I need something, but not this._

And without another thought took off for the forest, Artemis following his heels, where he felt at home.

When he turned a corner to head towards the outskirt of town, he heard, "Master Queen!" the voice, loud and booming stopped him. "Master Queen!" rang through the street again and he couldn't ignore it anymore. Artemis even turned up his ears to listen and look at Oliver in question. Turning towards the voice, there stood a large man, his skin dark, his body, muscular and intimidating as an affable smile graced his face. The man walked with authority toward him and stood in front of him, stuck out his hand in greeting, "Master Queen, my name is John, and I am your new valet. Your mother just assigned me to look after you and help you with any thing you need."

Oliver bit back a sigh, he didn't need a babysitter. He didn't need to be watched over. He needed to be alone. Oliver quirked his eyebrow, "Anything? In that case John, I need to be left alone," as he side stepped John to go around.

Oliver watched the man shake his head, followed the sidestep, blocking his escape and chuckle, "Your mother figured you would say that, you have an appointment at the tailors for a new set of clothes, something about despite having been gone for five years, coming back bigger and needing a new wardrobe." His valet, John, looked amused as he seemed to evaluate Oliver and the uneasiness in Oliver's stance.

Putting on a cheeky smile that would have always been on his face before he went missing, and shrugging, "What can I say, I'm a growing boy. Now John, lead me to the tailors." Oliver could see his change in demeanor take his new valet by surprise, but that was the idea. Oliver patted his thigh for Artemis to follow him. As they walked Oliver sized up John as they walked toward the tailor's shop. The man had a knife strapped to his thigh, over his trousers, and Oliver bet there was one strapped to his ankle above his boot. _Why would a man that was a slave be allowed to have a knife out in open?_ John walked with strength and conviction, and almost seemed to march, like a soldier. _Just who had his mother assigned to be his valet?_

When they came to the tailor's shop, John opened the door to allow Oliver and Artemis in and followed them, making sure the door was closed and then started to shutter the windows. Oliver turned to look at John to question what was going on, when a voice he knew caught his attention. "Sir, sir you cannot bring a dog into the shop. It simply isn't allowed." The voice last night. The serving girl was working at the tailor's shop?

His breath caught in his throat, she was stunning. Last night had been dark and she was wearing serviceable clothes, but today, she was a beauty in a rose-colored dress. "Well, since Artemis is a wolf, and not a dog, I guess that rule doesn't apply to him then, does it Miss?" For some reason, Oliver wanted to push her, engage her in conversation, in argument, even though he couldn't hide his smile as he responded.

He had never seen a piercing glare leveled at him, as she did, from behind dark rimmed spectacles. "It's Miss Smoak, Felicity Smoak, and you sir, need to leave your wolf outside." She pointed to the now shut door, making her point. Artemis, seeming to realize he was being discussed, walked over to the low counter Miss Smoak stood behind and stood up, and placed his head under her hand, forcing her to rub him. Oliver tried to hide his smile behind his hand as she automatically started to stroke his wolf's ears and murmur something softly. _What was she saying?_

His thoughts were interrupted when John came over, "Miss Smoak, the Queens plan of spending lots of money in here today, and I'm sure the owner would not appreciate losing their business because you wouldn't allow Master Queen's wolf to accompany him. Where Master Queen goes, so does his wolf." Oliver was impressed when John lifted his eyebrow, challenging Miss Smoak to say something.

Oliver heard a mumble from her, "Well at least the wolf has manners," as she straightened herself up, "I don't work her sir. I am only here to help with the accounts. Master Allen will be back in a few moments. He was called away to help the surgeon with stitching a wound. Please feel free to look around, but I will not be helping you today."

He gave her his most charming smile, "Pity, I was hoping you would be taking my measurements. I've been told I've grown." He wanted to make her uncomfortable. He wanted to make her leave the shop. He wanted to see if her blush was the same shade as her dress.

Again, the blue eyes just leveled a look that would have made most men squirm, "As I am the only one here at the moment, I won't be doing that, but I will be writing up your bill. That I will do for you Master Queen."

"Please, call me Oliver, Master Queen was my father. You too John, please call me Oliver."

A look of recognition passed over the girl's face, "That's right, you're the heir who was supposed to have perished with his father when a storm took out your boat as you were headed back to England for some reason. Your father died and you obviously didn't because if you did you wouldn't be standing in front of me, with your wolf and staring at me and I'm going to stop talking right now." Oliver watched as she bit her lip to stop her speech, and he this time he didn't his smile. At least she was honest.

"Tell me Miss Smoak, I don't remember you from before, how do you know of me?" Just as she was about to answer, the bell above the door rang, signaling someone had entered.

"Master Allen, I'm so glad you are back. Oliver Queen and his valet and his wolf are here for measurements and a fitting of new clothes," as soon as she spoke Oliver watched her grab the ledger that had sat on the counter and hurried behind a curtain, out of his sight, and he missed her immediately. _Why would he miss her, he didn't even know her?_

Oliver sat down on the floor of his bedroom, stroking Artemis's fur absentmindedly as he let his head rest against the wall. The afternoon had been awful. Being poked and prodded and measured in a closed off building was torture. When he had questioned John as to why he had shuttered the windows of the shop, all his valet would say was it was ordered to be done, and gave no further information. And then there was the tailor, Barry Allen, who kept telling him to take off his shirt for measurement and Oliver kept refusing until he roared at the man that if he tried to pull the shirt off again, he would cut him with his own scissors. That sent Mr. Allen scurrying towards the back of the shop saying he needed something, and Oliver could have sworn there was a small wet spot on the man's breeches as he ran. But it had also earned him a cool blue glare from Miss Smaok in the back as Allen had pulled the curtain back. He could almost hear the clucking of her tongue in disapproval. Artemis's soft growl and a knock on his door brought him back to the present, "Who is it?"

"Ollie, Mother wants us down for dinner. She has some English officers coming to dinner and expects us down there in fifteen minutes." Oliver could hear the weariness in his little sister's voice, how she disliked entertaining the officers. He didn't want to see the officers.

He got up and fastened his shirt and changed from the breeches he was expected to wear into the buckskins he preferred. Without a second thought, he grabbed Artemis and had him jump out the window, with him quickly following, landing as softly as a feather and took off in a run.

He took the back alleys and when he hit the woods, he felt free. This was what he had known for most of the last five years. Artemis ran to the cave that he had discovered, pawing at the covering over the entrance. "I know boy. This seems to be a better home than the one in town. But we can keep this as our place. I have plans for this place boy." Oliver scratched his wolf's fur and pulled the covering back. He lit the small torch that he had anchored to the wall previously and grabbed the green wooden crate. Opening the lid, Oliver pulled out the green leather pants and hood, running his hands over the smoothness. His armour. That is what the tribe had called it when they gave it to them. Green to become part of the forest, leather to protect him from blades, a hood to make him a ghost. And a small leather bound book, names written in his father's hand, names that had failed his city.


End file.
